


The Theater Has a Habit of Bringing People Together

by PRHapphany (handsinforests)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Theater AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 17:57:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11765298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handsinforests/pseuds/PRHapphany
Summary: Clarke moves to Polis as a fresh actress however she keeps getting thwarted by Anya - until they end up being the leads for Romeo and Juliet.





	The Theater Has a Habit of Bringing People Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedeadflag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeadflag/gifts).



> Firstly, I don't own any of the characters all rights go to their respective owners(yadda, yadda). This is a birthday gift to the one and only thedeadflag for her amazing stories(check her out!) and dedication to the Clanya fandom.

When Clarke had moved to the other side of the country, she hadn’t exactly expected to be living so close to one of the most well-known theaters in the nation, but here she was, answering an open casting call for Polis Theater’s production of “Back to the Ground”. And she was gonna rock it. She stood in line behind another blonde who was a good head above her, though if she shifted to her left a bit she could see her phone. Apparently the woman was still going over her lines. 

“Amateur.” Clarke fake coughed, earning her a huff from the woman in front of her. 

“Do you have something to say to me?” She turned around, hand on her hip, the other putting her phone away.

“Oh me? No, not at all. I just think it’s an amateur move to bring your lines to the audition.”

“It’s better that than I forget them, isn’t it? And who are you anyway? Just because this is an open casting call doesn’t mean any valley girl who thinks she can act can come by.” 

“I-I’m Blarke. Clarke! I’m Clarke. Clarke Griffin.” 

The woman rolled her eyes. “Well you should learn to keep your criticisms to yourself, Clarke Griffin.” She turned around, pulling out her phone again, assumingly to keep practicing her lines.

“Next! Anya Woods!” The director called from the other room, setting the blonde into action. 

“It’ll hard to see you because of the stage lights, but I hope you come out to the show.” Anya smiled as she went into the next room for her audition. 

She came out only a few minutes later, and waved to Clarke before making her way out. 

“Clarke Griffin!” 

Clarke ran her hands over her dress before moving into the next room.

“Hi, I’m Clarke Griffin, I’m auditioning for the part of Halen James.” 

“Alright, let’s get started.” 

Clarke nodded. “Tom, they’re just savages. They’ve been living on the ground when they could’ve been in space with us. You know their whole language is just grunts and motions.”

“Can you do anything from further in the script?” 

“Oh! Uh, sure. Um, Carmen, you’re so beautiful, um, well we should -” Clarke had begun to scratch her neck and was two seconds from twiddling her thumbs before the director stopped her. 

“That will be enough,” the director looked at his clipboard, “Clarke Griffin.” 

First auditions right off the plane were supposed to be hard, right? It made sense that she didn’t get that part, she was rusty and she was in a new city where she hadn’t met any of the casting directors, she had no foot in the door. That was why she didn’t get the part. And that woman, Anya, she certainly hadn’t helped. Who did she think was anyway? Just waltzing in there, lines right in front of her. But she wasn’t the one who barely spoke a word before she getting kicked out.

*

Clarke ended up going to the matinee of “Back to the Ground”. Purely to see Anya fail, obviously. Except she hadn’t. She’d been great, actually. As much as Clarke hated her - could she hate a woman she’d barely had any contact with over a part she didn’t really want? (Probably) - she was about the only good thing in the play, even Clarke thought she could act better than most of the others that Anya had the misfortune of sharing the stage with. 

And then she figured that all the Anya business was done and over with. She’d already lost one part to her and learned to actually go over her lines when she had had her eight hours, so logically she shouldn’t have been bested by her again. Except here she was, getting a rejection call from a different director this time, for “Woops, We’re in Love”. She’d actually liked that one. 

That time she wasn’t behind Anya in the waiting room, she’d only just come in the door as Anya was coming out. “Hey, you’re that Blarke girl, right?” 

“It’s Clarke.” 

“Right.” Anya shrugged and shoulder checked her as she strolled down the hallway, so sure that she’d already gotten the part. Clarke figured she probably had something to be proud of if she was beating Clarke “voted Arkadia High’s ‘Most Likely to be an Actress” Griffin. 

But it kept happening. It was like Anya knew what part Clarke was going for and auditioned for it before her. “Do you need a list of the plays I’m auditioning for so you can stop embarrassing yourself?” Anya had laughed when she saw Clarke come into the waiting room for “The Little Mermaid”, of all things. Clarke didn’t want to think about how she knew Anya would make a great Ariel. 

“No, but you might need a list of uh…” She trailed off, ears burning. She wasn’t exactly the queen of snark. 

“I think you might need a list of good comebacks.” Anya smirked, eyes glinting. 

*

Six months of this ridiculousness ensued before finally Clarke walked into the Polis Theater. She was surprised at the amount of people already there. Most of them were stretching, and humming, whatever else to warm themselves up in both senses. She tugged at the sides of her jacket and moved down the aisle, going to where she assumed the casting committee’s table was. “Hello?” 

“Oh hello, you’re here for Romeo and Juliet, am I right?” The woman looked her over, dark eyes only making her more nervous.

“Uh, yeah, Clarke Griffin.” 

“Hm,” she looked over the clipboard in her hands, checking her name off the list. “Yes alright. Please take a seat and do whatever it is you need to do to get warmed up. You’ll be called backstage when your turn is coming up.” 

“Thank you.” Clarke nodded, moving towards the front of the auditorium where there seemed to be more empty seats. She’d thought this was an invitation-only call, not a ‘straight out of high school and I wanna be an actor’ kind of deal. She shrugged, looking back at the amount of people trilling and doing other silly exercises. It wasn’t like any of them would be actual competition for her. 

Soon enough the doors were locked and the lights in the theater darkened, the first few people on the list having already been called backstage. 

The woman with the clipboard stood, brushing off the dust that had gathered on her slacks. “I figure I should formally introduce myself. My name is Indra Pine and I’m the director of this modern retake on Romeo and Juliet. If you all are thinking that it’s cliche, that’s because it is. What I’m trying to do with this is make it less cliche, while still retaining the magic of what Shakespeare wrote. 

“As the people backstage know, you’ll be paired up and auditioning with that person, together. No exceptions. You’ll also notice that you weren’t, and won’t, be given any scripts or details aside from what I’m going to tell the first pair to do. This is your audition, not mine.” Indra looked around the room for effect, having noticed the scoffs and gasps at her casting method. “Now then, the first pair. Come on out.” 

Two women with dark hair walked on stage before stopping on top of the taped x’s. “Your names, please?” 

“Octavia Blake.” The first woman said.

“Fox Mulder.” At least she had the decency to look embarrassed, maybe she’d watched too many X-Files episodes the night before.

Indra quirked an eyebrow. “Please take this seriously, Ms. Jackson.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Now, since this is a modernized version of the play, I thought we’d do something different. Octavia, Romeo. And,” she paused, “Fox, Juliet. I assume you’ve both at least studied some lines of the original. Go.” 

Both of the women on stage looked shocked for a moment, before Octavia startled into action. “Um, but, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun -”

“Stop, stop. Please tell me that’s not the only bit of this play that you know.” 

Octavia rubbed at the back of her neck for a moment before speaking. “O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” She bowed and got down on one knee, clasping Fox’s hands in hers. 

Fox stared at her in confusion, looking back and forth between her and Indra’s ever raising eyebrow. “Uh, no, never my Romeo, because uh, my love shall satisfy thee?” 

“Ah but what love can we have fair Juliet, for our families so feud with one another?” 

“A, uh, a secret love! Um, hidden behind the birch and alder trees, our hearts will beat together.” Octavia stood again, motioning for a hug before Fox responded, rushing into her arms. 

“You must feel this now, Juliet. The beating of our hearts so open beneath your window, we cannot be. I will find you behind the birch and alders, between the rolling hills, above the grassy fields. Or in a coffee shop, whichever comes first.” She tacked onto the end, chuckling. 

“You’re up next.” A woman with a headset tapped on her shoulder, and she quickly took another gulp of water before getting up and following her backstage. “Alright, this is your partner Anya, I assume you both saw and heard Indra’s directions.” She gestured to the other blonde backstage before walking off to work with the stage crew, muttering something into her microphone. 

“Oh. It’s you.” As if she’d be paired up with anyone else. At least she was sure Anya could act.

Anya only glanced blankly at her before directing her eyes back to Octavia and Fox. 

“Um so I have some ideas -”

“Don’t talk to me. It’s supposed to be improvised, not some half assed plan we come up with back here.” Anya said, not bothering to look in her direction. 

“Well alright, no need to be rude.” Clarke rolled her eyes, ignoring Anya’s obvious scoff at having heard her. 

“Next!” Indra called from the audience as Octavia and Fox made their way off stage. 

“That’s us.” Clarke followed Anya onto the stage. 

“Names.” 

“Clarke Griffin.” The shorter blonde cut Anya off, buying her yet another eyeroll from the woman. 

“Anya Woods.” 

“Good. Anya, Juliet. Clarke, Romeo. Go.” 

“So,” Anya turned to look at Clarke. “Why haven’t you called me, Romeo?” 

“Uh, well I’ve just been busy.” 

Anya scoffed. 

“Okay, well that’s no excuse.” C’mon Clarke, think of something. “I’ve had a crush on you for a while, so forgive me if I was too nervous to call you.” 

“All that work flirting with me at every party and you don’t follow through? I mean I was beginning to like you too until you went and pulled this stunt.” 

Indra nodded. 

“Well I’ll work on that. Look, just, go out with me this Saturday? I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

“You’re paying.” 

“Well, I’m impressed.” Clarke was about to say something else before Indra cut her off. “Next.” 

The blondes said their ‘thank you’s and moved off of the stage, nodding to the next pair as they came past the curtains. 

“Uh, that was nice out there.” Clarke said.

Anya glanced behind her. “I’m just glad you didn’t insult me this time.” 

*

It wasn’t until the next week when Clarke got a call, hushing Raven and Lexa’s antics in the background. “Hello?”

“Clarke Griffin? It’s Indra Pine. You’re our Romeo.” 

“Thank you Ms. Pine, I won’t disappoint you.” 

“Then start by calling me Indra.”

*

She was running late. Of course. What better way to start practice than be late for the first day of it. She just barely remembered to grab her keys before rushing out the door, hair half brushed. The drive to the theater was short, mostly consisting of finger combing her hair and humming along to whatever came on the radio. She scooted in just as a small, dark haired girl was beginning to close the door. “Hey, hi.” Clarke half smiled, pushing past the other woman. 

“Welcome to practice, everyone. Where are my stars?” Clarke raised her hand, then seeing how it was obvious that she was meant to get on stage, she quickly went up to the side and was face to face with Anya. 

“Anya?” Clarke laughed despite herself. Of course she’d have to share the stage with her. 

“Nice to see you too, Clarke.” 

“Alright. Tris, would you mind giving everyone a script?” The girl, probably in high school, shuffled the thick manuscripts in her hands, moving around the stage to give everyone theirs. “Now then, from the top, Romeo.” 

Clarke flipped open the script, nodding before settling it at her side. She mimed leaning over a counter before motioning to Octavia next to her.

Anya moved away, faking leaning on a wall and drinking something. “Hey, who’s that?” She said, pointing towards Anya.

“Her? I think she’s a little out of your league.” 

Clarke smiled. “That’s not what I’m asking.” 

“Look, that’s Julie. She comes in here all the time and I’ve never seen her leave with anyone. I think you’re wasting your time.” 

Clarke chuckled, miming downing the rest of her drink before setting it on the counter. “Don’t wait up.” She sauntered across the stage at Anya, who so far hadn’t so much as looked at her. “Hey beautiful, wanna dance?”

Anya looked her over, imaging she had on some outfit that wasn’t an obviously old high school t-shirt and ripped jeans. “No.” 

“That’s not in the script.” Clarke looked up at Anya. 

“Well my Juliet wouldn’t just go out with any random girl she saw, she’d scope her out.” 

“Good call, Anya.” Indra nodded, making a note in her copy of the script. “Clarke?” 

She huffed, looking Anya over. “How bout I get you a drink then?” 

Anya pursed her lips. “Rum and coke.” 

“Gotcha.” Clarke made her way back over to the other side of the stage, where she mimicked ordering the drink and waiting as she talked with Octavia again. 

“Rum and coke for the lady.” Clarke scowled, completely off her mark because Anya decided not to follow the script. 

“Alright, let’s split. Clarke and Anya, work on revamping the script in your scenes. Everyone else pair up with someone they have the majority of their scenes with, run over your lines, whatever.” 

“Of course.” Anya rolled her eyes. 

“Do you do this for every play you’re in, or is it just that you have to work with me?” Clarke said.

Anya raised her eyebrows before scoffing, crossing her arms over her chest. “This has to be realistic. They aren’t just going to meet and fall in love right off the bat they have -”

“The original isn’t realistic!” Clarke countered. “You just don’t want to share the spotlight, that’s it.” 

Anya couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, I suppose I don’t want to share the spotlight with an actress who’s less talented than me.” 

“You don’t know anything. You have no idea what I went through just to be here. I spent half a year watching you get part after part but when a director finally wants to recognize my ability you just have to go and ruin it for me.” 

“Ladies?” Indra called, both of them not noticing that the theater had gone quiet as they argued. “It’s obvious that you two have some...issues to work out, so I suggest you find a time you’re both free and work on it.” She clapped, signaling the end of the first day of practice. Clarke was already making her way off stage when Anya called out to her. 

“Here’s my number, don’t text me unless it’s to meet up and practice.” 

Clarke rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “There’s no way Indra was serious about practicing together.” 

“If she said it, she meant it.” Anya pushed the piece of paper into Clarke’s chest before moving past her. 

*

Well she certainly wasn’t going to do that. Indra could get mad at her all she liked. She’d just practice with her cat and hope that Anya kind of meowed when she delivered her lines. She actually managed to pass it off for a week before Indra noticed that they obviously hadn’t coordinated if Anya had severely different notes than Clarke did. 

“So you disobeyed a direct order from the person who signs your paychecks? All because you didn’t want to work with Anya?” Indra stood with her hands on her hips, eyes blazing into Clarke. 

“Well when you put it that way-” 

“Come with me.” She walked swiftly to the dressing rooms, finding one that didn’t have anyone’s stuff thrown haphazardly around it and ushered the two into it. “Now practice.” She shut the door, clicking the lock after her.

Clarke blinked, reeling from the order. “Clarke, look. I get that you don’t like me. You don’t have to. But if you can’t even collaborate with me on the job, this isn’t going to work.” 

She swiveled on her feet, only to find that Anya had taken the only chair in the room. “You can’t just hog the chair.” 

“Obviously I can. Anyway, the script?” She waved the bundle of paper together as if Clarke needed a visual reminder of what it looked like. 

“Yeah,” Clarke flipped to the part they’d been working on. “Okay, so this is almost at the end of the play, Rose and Julie both have feelings for each other, what’s the hold up?”

“Look, Julie has to trust Rose, especially since she can’t trust anyone else in her life. Because Rose literally lied about being with her to her friends, what does that say about how much their relationship matters? Benvolio and Mercutio aren’t going to say anything to the Capulets.” 

“But that was so it wouldn’t get out to the Montagues about Rose liking girls, imagine if someone had overheard. It’s not about Julie, it’s about Rose being able to be with her, even if it has to be in secret.” 

“But it shouldn’t have to be in secret? Have you read the script at all? Their kiss when they get together is literally the ending scene! It doesn’t matter what Rose’s family thinks if it isn’t relevant to the play.” 

“But what about after?!” Clarke shouted. “Yeah, they kiss, but then what? They have to talk about the fact that they could get hurt because of this before they decide to get together.” Anya got the feeling that this wasn’t about the play anymore. 

“Do you need some time to cool down, Clarke?”

“No. I’m fine.” She took a shuddering breath, wiping a tear from her cheek. “So look, I’m sorry about how I insulted you when we met.” 

Anya raised an eyebrow, that wasn’t what she was expecting. “You’re forgiven. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah. Let’s uh, let’s just go with your idea alright?” 

Anya nodded, looking over her script. “So basically, Rose should just apologize and explain why she can’t exactly tell anyone about them. I think that’s the real problem, the lack of communication. On both their parts.” 

Clarke made the note on her script, ignoring Anya’s side commentary on their relationship. “Alright, so it’s just the ending after this then, right?” 

“Right.” 

A knock broke them out of the awkward silence that had ensued at the mention of the kiss. “You ladies haven’t killed each other in there, right?” 

“No, ma’am.” Anya called, standing when Indra opened the door. 

“Good then. Let’s not force me to do this again.” Indra looked pointedly at Clarke before leaving the door open, practice sufficiently done for the day. 

*

Clarke sighed when she finally got back home, plopping down on her bed. She mulled it over for a bit before huffing and pulling out her phone and going into her messages. 

Clarke: Hey, it’s Clarke. Let’s meetup to practice. 

Anya: I’m free Sunday afternoon, meet at the theater.

*

That Sunday, Clarke was sitting on the edge of the stage when Anya walked in. 

“What’s the scene you’re having the most trouble with?” Anya walked backstage, flinging her backpack into a corner of the stage and peeling off her leather jacket before standing in front of Clarke.

“Well, the dancing scene really.” 

“What, don’t know how to dance?” Anya smirked, catching how Clarke blushed before she looked away. 

“I- of course I do! This just isn’t the sort of dancing I’m used to.” 

“Well it is the sort of thing I’m used to, so if you’d mind putting your pride away I can show you.” She offered a hand, tilting her head to the side just so. 

Clarke took her hand, interlacing their fingers together while Anya placed her right hand around the other blonde’s waist. “Just follow my lead, alright?” 

Clarke nodded, fitting her palm to Anya’s shoulder. Anya moved with a purposeful grace Clarke hadn’t thought she possessed, moving them around the stage with ease as though she’d danced with Clarke a hundred times before. “Aren’t I supposed to lead as Romeo?” 

“It’s even more subversive if you don’t.” Anya quirked her lips and dipped Clarke, eyes twinkling when she came rushing back to her, tightening her grip on Anya’s hand. 

“So next is the-” 

“Kiss.” Anya finished her sentence, eyes flitting down to her lips and back. Clarke licked her lips, catching Anya’s eyes before moving in. Maybe it was just the stage lights, but everything felt warmer when Clarke and Anya’s lips finally met. 

They broke apart, Anya’s fingers still pressed into her side. “So, uh, the rest of the lines?” Clarke stuttered. 

*

After another practice the weekend of the show was upon them. The first two nights had gone largely without incident, save for a rather hilarious bit where Octavia tripped on stage. And the last was drawing to a close, with one scene left. Anya stood on the left side of the stage, awaiting Rose’s, Clarke’s, arrival. 

“Julie! I’m here to offer you my love!” Clarke called. 

Anya’s eyes flitted to Clarke’s, something unfamiliar in them before she walked over and grabbed her hands, smiling. Clarke wasn’t sure if that was in character or not. “What of our love, Rose? Is it not meant to be? So off time with the hands of fate?”

“It is to the beating of our hearts, not the clock of fate to which love strikes.” Anya dipped Clarke right on que, syncing it with her final word. She left her hanging loosely in her arms only a few feet from the floor for a good moment longer than necessary, dancing her eyes around Clarke’s face as if she was seeing her for the first time. Anya bit her lip, which was decidedly out of character, and pulled Clarke up again, pressing her into her chest. 

“Then let me kiss you at every hour, from the stroke of dawn to the toll of dusk.” 

“There’s nothing I’d rather do.” Clarke didn’t want to think about the implications of that. Their lips met again, familiarizing themselves with the softness of each other’s lips and how Clarke’s knees practically gave out when Anya ran her thumb across the back of her hand. The two pulled apart, Clarke, flushed and pink as a peach, and Anya, fingers digging into Clarke’s side. They stood there for a moment, before remembering themselves and they both bowed, closing out the play. 

The curtains closed before they finally let go of each other, Clarke stepping away and allowing space, any space, between them. Anya glanced at her, bowing as the curtains opened again for the curtain call. “Your Rose and Julie.” The audience clapped and she even heard a few cheers before the other pairs of characters were introduced. They finally bowed as the curtains closed.

“So, to the bar we go!” Octavia cheered, already rubbing her makeup off. Anya lost track of Clarke in the commotion, opting to catch her before she left the theater. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

Clarke looked surprised for a moment before looking away. “Yeah. I’m fine. See you at the bar.” 

*

Clarke pulled into the parking lot and got out of her car, scowling at the stubborn glitter in her hair. 

“Clarke, you made it! Anya’s doing a speech.” Octavia welcomed her, practically shoving a drink into her hand. 

“Let me be the first to say, Clarke Griffin isn’t easy to get along with.” Anya was in front of the several booths the cast were taking up, waving around a large glass of beer. The cast laughed, Octavia patting Clarke on the back as she went red in the face, “But I’ll never say she didn’t deserve to be on that stage with me. She’s one of the best actresses I’ve ever worked with, and I’m very happy to have had her as my Romeo.” Anya smiled, chuckling at the look on Clarke’s face. 

Before Anya could get a word in to Clarke there was cheers and applause from their fellow cast members and a full blown party had started. 

*

After a few Octavia’s insistence fueled drinks, Clarke broke away from the crowd, going out onto the patio for a much needed break. What she didn’t expect was Anya staring at the sky away from her. 

“What was that about me being one of the best people to work with?” 

Anya turned. “In my speech? Nothing really.” 

“But it was sincere. Or at least it looked like it.” 

Anya sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “Look I know you don’t actually like me so you don’t have to come over here and force a conversation.” 

“What? Why do you think I don’t like you?” 

“Because after we kissed you ran off, and you barely spoke a word to me that wasn’t in the script. What was I supposed to think?” 

“Well I-” Clarke started. She’d reached a hand out to Anya before thinking better of it. Of course she’d get that impression, Clarke groaned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run off. Let me… let me make it up to you.” 

“And just how do you plan on doing that?” Anya turned to face her, blowing the smoke back behind her. 

“Let’s go on a date.” 

Anya actually looked surprised for a moment before schooling her features back into her signature scowl, save a little quirk of her lips. “Sounds good, Griffin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Might make this into a two-shot, let me know in the comments! And don't forget to check out thedeadflag's work, she's seriously a fantastic writer.


End file.
